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amasterpieceofmadness · 3 months

Text

the new suit – tony s.

summary You and Tony are working together on a new suit as you end up kissing him. But before you can confess your feelings you get interrupted by Steve…

warnings none, fluff, mutual pining

wordcount 5.2K

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Tony slides his glasses back on as he’s fishing up on some new designs for his Iron Man suit. "You finished the sketches of the costume? Let me see." He leans over the desk while I’m sitting in a chair, he puts his palms on the table and takes a closer look over at my sketchbook.

“What do you think?” I ask as I lean back in my chair.

"Hmm." Tony stares at the sketchbook, rubbing his hands together as he takes in the designs, his brows furrowing and his mouth twisting into a thoughtful frown. "Very interesting. I see your thought process here. It's clear that you took inspiration from some of my old work, but you also managed to add your own touches. It's creative. I like it." He pushes himself off of the desk and looks at me from under his glasses with a small smirk, which makes me a bit proud to be honest.

“Oh, you haven't seen the best part yet” I lean over, nearly spilling my coffee, to get some more sketches out under a pile of other papers “There you are” I hand him the sketches and once again Tony leans in, craning his neck to get a better look at them. His face lights up as he sees them, quickly analyzing and taking in the details.

"Okay, I like the direction you've taken. I really like your new touches to my original style. It looks damn good, and the new armory you added sounds great!” He seems really pleased with my work.

“Thought you like it. The material for the suit is light but it can still protect you just as good and it is very resistance” I explain my sketches to him, occasionally looking up to check if he’s still listening.

Tony is visibly impressed, nodding in approval as he takes in the details. "Yes, that's a fantastic feature. The light weight and increased protection would be an asset in any battle. I also like the addition of the new weapons. It adds an extra level of versatility, and gives me a little more firepower. And it's great that you were able to do it all while keeping the suit light weight. That's always been one of my main concerns."

“So... when can we get started?” I ask overly motivated, looking up at him while sipping on my like 10th coffee today, even though it’s only 1pm.

Tony smiles and lets out a chuckle as he glances once again at the many sketches of his new suit. "Well, with this level of enthusiasm, I'd say we could start right now. Everything we need is here in the lab. The only thing we need to decide on is the color scheme. Do you want to stick with classic red and gold, or go with something different?"

I smirk and get up, ready to go to work. “No, no, the red-gold is iconic. We are not gonna change a thing there. But we should pick a darker shade for the red. This way the suit doesn’t look like a toy and it really brings out the golden accents I put there” I point to the sketches

Tony nods in agreement, looking at the sketches with a critical eye, taking in the subtle details I’ve added.

"Hmm, a darker red would definitely give it a more sophisticated and mature look. And it would also make the gold accents pop more. Let's go with a darker red, and see how it looks."

I nod in agreement and already walk through the lab, looking around for the stuff we need and turning on all the electronical devices. “Sounds good. But we can decide about the final color later on in the process anyway. Jarvis, put on some ACDC”

Tony chuckles at the unexpected command to Jarvis, but follows behind me as I walk through the lab, eyeing the different machines and equipment as I pass. "True that. For now, let's focus on getting the different parts of the suit put together. And ACDC is always a perfect choice for the mood in the lab." Tony says with a smile, as the iconic rock music fills the lab, filling him with a surge of energy.

We work diligently throughout the whole night, making steady progress on the suit. It’s nothing too unusual for the two of us since we both really enjoy working together and we are both night owls. And I have to admit that I love to work with him. We are very close and always fool around and joke together.

The sun is starting to rise, but neither of us seems to notice, as we’re too busy focusing on creating the perfect suit. We’ve made a lot of progress on putting the different components together, and we’re both beginning to feel a sense of accomplishment. Tony sighs and stretches and I can’t help but glance at his muscles. "I'd say that we should take a break and stretch our legs for a bit. We've been here all night, and I feel the need to move around a little bit."

I nod quickly and take my eyes off of him. If he noticed me staring, he just ignores it. “You can move around while testing the new gloves.”

Tony grins and nods his head, deciding that a physical test of the gloves was a great idea. "Eager, are we? Give me a few minutes to put them on, and then I'll go out on a test run."

“Alright. Jarvis, put on the test mode” Jarvis immediately snaps to attention and responds to the command in a calm and robotic voice. “Test mode initiated”

The suit is immediately powered on and the screens light up with different modes and data readouts. The hands and fingers of the suit appear to be moving and extending and retracting in a variety of movements. Tony's hands flex and move as he tests out the new gloves. I watch as Tony brings his arms forward and aiming the palms towards the ground. He holds the position for a few seconds, as a bright red circle emits from each palm towards the ground. The red rings come into contact with each other and create a force field that quickly expands and covers Tony inside of it.

A huge smirk crosses my face as I see that my plans work out and the new armory is working just fine. “What do you think?”

Tony chuckles in response to my smug grin. "I think it's brilliant. Your idea for the shield component was an excellent addition to this suit. Well done on this upgrade."

“Thank you” I chuckle and check the data on the screens again.

Tony flashes a wide smile as he looks at you with a hint of approval. That million-dollar smile that makes my knees weak every time. "You're welcome. I think your additions have really brought the suit to the next level.” Tony nods in agreement, glancing over at the different components that are stacked on the workbench. "The next step is to finish putting all the parts together and getting the full suit assembled. After that it's just a matter of testing the suit itself and making sure everything works properly."

I nod as well, approvingly, and look up at Tony. “What about you get some coffee, I get breakfast and then we can continue with the suit?”

Tony nods and smirks, excited to continue working on the suit. The day passes and Tony and I don't even leave the lab. Sometimes the other Avengers come in to check on us and they all smile at our teamwork. Currently Steve looks around the lab, smirking at Tony and me. “You know, the way you guys work together... it seems like there is going on more than just friendship”

Tony chuckles as he hears Steve's comment, but doesn't take his eyes off his work as he continues to assemble the different parts of the suit, testing and retesting every component for functionality and efficiency. He responds to Steve's comment without looking away from his work. "We have a good dynamic going. It's not hard to get in a groove and get things done with her on my team. That’s all."

I chuckle and walk over to Tony, handing him some more parts of the suit. “Just admit it, you would be helpless without me”

Tony laughs and jokingly rolls his eyes, as he takes the parts and slots them into the appropriate place inside the suit. He turns and looks at me, as he begins to test out the new upgrades. "Okay, okay, you've got me. I'm totally useless without you." Tony says in a sarcastic tone, though it's clear he's still enjoying the banter and he is thankful for my help.

I too chuckle and sit back down on my own working bench, getting back to work.

“You two are cute” Steve smiles, wanting to tease Tony a bit more.

Tony laughs again and blushes a bit as he hears Steve's comment. After all, we really do have very good chemistry. Tony doesn't deny the fact that there is some truth to Steve's comment, but decides to play it cool. He shrugs as he continues to work. "Thanks, Cap, but we're just friends. Nothing more." Tony says with a mischievous smile, as he continues his work.

“Whatever” Steve smirks and leaves the lab after looking around one final time.

Tony nods his head and chuckles as Steve walks away, but he can't help feeling just a little bit embarrassed, and a little bit excited, by Steve's comment. He glances over at me, as I’m working on my own component. We are just friends, but sometimes it's hard to deny that there is something between us. We continue to work together for another couple hours, until finally we have the full suit assembled. We take a moment to step back and admire our work proudly.

I grin widely in excitement, standing next to Tony. “It's finished! We made it, and it looks good!”

Tony looks just as excited and proud as me, as he grins and nods his head, looking over the full suit. It has a clean, classic look to it, while also incorporating all the new upgrades that they added. The red-gold color scheme stands out, and the added accents look like a perfect blend of old and new. Tony is truly satisfied with the finished product. "I'd say we did an excellent job, wouldn't you?"

“Definitely!” I say a bit overexcited and thanks to my clumsiness I nearly fall over

Tony can't help but laugh a little bit as he sees me stumble, but he quickly catches me with his strong arms and steadies me, supporting my weight. He looks down at me with a smirk. "Careful now. We don't want any accidents to ruin our finished product."

I chuckle slightly but can't help and blush a bit as I get back onto my feet, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “Of course not”

Tony smiles at the brief blush that he witnesses, though he is careful to keep his expression neutral and professional. He knows from experiences just how easily he can get distracted when I’m close. "So, what do you say, are we ready for a test run?"

”Yeah... Yeah! Let's test it out, getting you dressed up” I smile at him excitedly.

My enthusiasm is contagious, and Tony can't help but smile at my excitement. He starts getting changed, quickly pulling the different components of the suit on. The gloves snap into place, the boots secure onto his legs, and finally the chest and head components are in place as well. I just watch, occasionally checking the screens for the data. I can’t help but think he looks really handsome in that suit…

"Okay, I'm ready to test it out. Let's put this bad boy to the test.” Tony says as he is now fully into the suit.

I smirk at his choice of words and watch as Jarvis finishes securing the last component and the suit seals itself in place. The various monitors light up with different systems and readouts, as Jarvis speaks in his typical calm voice "Suit has been activated and all systems are at full operating capacity." Tony smiles and steps away from the workbench, giving the suit a brief visual inspection before turning to face me. "So, what do you think?"

“It looks damn good” and you too, I think to myself. “Jarvis, activate the testing mode”

Jarvis obeys the command, and the suit powers up fully, with the chest piece shining brightly as the repulsor rays light up. The arm cannons point forward, ready to act. It is indeed an impressive sight. "Alright, let's do this."

As soon as the face mask snaps into place, the suit is fully sealed and active. Tony lifts his hands into the air, as the repulsor rays shoot out at full power. The suit propels Tony into the sky, as the thrust lifts him into a high, smooth, stable flight.

I smile happily, we really did a great job. I walk around checking the diagrams on the computers “Seems like everything works just fine. Try it out some more”

Tony begins to fly around the lab, testing the different features of the suit. He begins testing out the weapons that you had installed as well. He seems pretty satisfied and I too smile happily, glad we did such a good job. “Jarvis, open the window hatch”

Jarvis immediately responds with a calm, robotic voice. "Opening window hatch." The window hatch opens up, allowing Tony to fly directly out of the lab and into the open outdoors. I watch as he flies through the window and up into the sky, his suit still shining brightly in the sunlight. He flies in a large circle around the lab building. I grin widely as I run over to the window and look outside, seeing Tony flying around in his new suit

Tony seems to be enjoying the test run as much as I am watching from the lab. He appears to be in full control of the suit, and seems to have no problems flying it around the outdoor space above the lab. The flight is smooth and stable, allowing Tony to make sharp turns and take advantage of the different features of the suit. He seems to be testing out every aspect of the new suit as he goes along. After a few minutes, he begins to fly back towards the lab window. He returns right through the window and lands in the lab, opening his face mask. I walk over to him, more than happy

“Wow! That looked so awesome!”

Tony nods his head as he pulls the mask off of his face. He is visibly thrilled and excited, both by the positive outcome of the test and by the fact that I were there to witness it. "It flew surprisingly well, and the different weapon systems were all functioning perfectly. I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a test run this much. And it all came out looking so good as well. We did a great job!"

“Yes, we definitely did!” I hug him out of pure excitement and suddenly our lips meet for just a few seconds.

Tony is caught off guard by this unexpected kiss, but he immediately wraps his arms around me as he kisses me back for just a few seconds. A brief and innocent kiss, the result of the heat of the moment. Tony pulls his head away eventually, and we just stand there, staring into each other’s eyes for a few seconds. He smiles and I see a faint glimpse of his cheeks turning red. I quickly pull away, blushing heavily and stuttering. “Oh my... I... I'm sorry, I... I don't know what... I ...”

Tony laughs softly as he sees just how flushed I am, but he's unable to hide a brief moment of amusement. "Relax, it was just a quick kiss. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Just a natural reaction to the moment. No big deal."

I take a deep breath, my cheeks still bright red. “We… we did a great job. The suit seems to work just fine”

Tony smiles at the way I stumble over my words, as he notices that my cheeks still haven't stopped blushing.

"Definitely. The suit works perfectly. The results speak for themselves and it will definitely be a game changer. But I guess the suit isn't the only thing that will be changing..."

I turn to look at him and frown, asking concerned “What do you mean? Are you not happy with it?”

Tony laughs as he notices the misunderstanding. "Oh no, I'm very happy with the suit. I was referring to our relationship. It feels like it's been changing between just friends and something more. I mean, late nights in the lab together, our banters, glances and a quick kiss, and you're blushing like crazy.”

My eyes widen at his words and I can feel my heart beating out of my chest. My voice shaky “Tony... I... I think this is just... the lack of sleep or the amount of coffee we drank or the excitement from the suit... I...”

Tony chuckles slightly and shakes his head, as he steps towards me and places his hands on my waist. "Is it really though? Or is it something else? I think we both know that this whole evening we've spent together had more to it than simple late nights and coffee.”

I look at him still dressed in his suit, my face flushed and my heart beating like crazy. “Tony...”

But before he can reply, Steve enters the lab and Tony immediately let go of me, stepping back a little.

“Oh hey! You finished the suit!” Steve says, rather impressed by the work Tony and I’ve done.

Tony stares at Steve with a friendly smile, knowing that he was caught in the middle of something but trying to play it off. "Sure did. Y/n and I just finished up the final tests, and we're very pleased with the results."

Steve looks between Tony and me, smirking softly and raising an eyebrow “Did I interrupt anything?”

Tony laughs as he shrugs his shoulders, pretending to be completely oblivious to the tension that was obviously there between him and me earlier. "Interrupt? No. We were just excited that the suit seemed to work so well, so we were discussing the final results and plans for the suit” he explains calmly and walks over to Steve, showing him the new suit he is still wearing.

“Yeah, we were just testing it out and the suit works pretty well” I smile at Steve as well, trying to hide my blush

Steve smiles back at me and gives a brief nod, as he continues to study my expressions. "Great! Seems like you both did an excellent job. I guess the suit isn't the only thing that got tested out tonight, huh?"

I blush and quickly turn around as Bruce also comes into the lab. “Oh hey, Wow! That suit looks good!”

The unexpected entry of Bruce throws Tony off for a quick second, as he glances over at him and flashes a look of surprise. He quickly regains his composure though, and smiles as he looks back over at Steve and Bruce. "Thanks. You’re just in time to see the new suit in action, if you'd like. Y/n and I just finished up the final tests for it."

As we continue to talk and show the features of the suit to Steve and Bruce, I notice the way that both Steve and Bruce keep stealing glances over at Tony and me with smirks in their faces. I know that at least one of them can clearly see the chemistry that is present between me and Tony. We both seem to be very close and comfortable together as we talk and laugh. After a while I start to feel tired and decide it's now time to get some rest. “Alright guys, I think I'll go get some sleep now. Tony, you good without me?

Tony's expression softens as he sees me starting to feel tired. He gives me a soft smile and nods his head. "Yeah, I'll be fine. You go get some sleep, and we'll meet back here tomorrow morning."

I agree and smile back at him before waving at Steve and Bruce before heading out of the lab and towards my room.

Tony watches me as I walk away, and he can't help but notice the way my curves hug tightly against my pants as I walk away from him. The vision in his eyes briefly lingers as all of the memories from the night come back to him. A faint glow appears in his eyes as he continues to watch me, then eventually he breaks the gaze and turns to Steve and Bruce.

Tony starts to get out of his suit and Steve smirks at him knowingly. Tony knows he's been caught, so he turns to look at Steve and raises an eyebrow in question, waiting for him to say what's on his mind. “So, what exactly did I interrupt before I came into lab?” Steve asks curiously and leans back against a work bench.

“Yeah, what was going on between you two?” Bruce looks confused yet curious between the two men.

Tony sighs as he realizes that he doesn't even have an excuse for this one. He can't deny the chemistry between us that both Steve and Bruce have observed. He just shrugs his shoulders, with a look of acceptance that shows he no longer has room to weasel himself out of it. "Just two friends enjoying some late night lab time. You know how it is. We just got a little carried away by the excitement of the suit."

“No, no... That seemed like something way more intimate” Steve smirks again and won’t let this go so easy.

Tony realizes that he's now in the position of having to either play dumb, or explain everything. Playing dumb in front of Steve and Bruce won’t work though. Tony sighs. "Look, Steve, some words have been spoken and there was a quick kiss. We both felt that this was more than just friendship..."

Both Steve and Bruce start to grin. “That's so cute. But you should talk to her, Tony.”

Tony's face flushes bright red. He hates that he is currently at the mercy of both Steve and Bruce with this whole situation. They are both grinning at him, clearly enjoying his predicament. He tries to act casual and gives off a soft sigh, acknowledging that Steve and Bruce are both right. "You guys... Come on, it wasn't that big of a deal. It just happened in the moment. Maybe it was all just a result of the late nights and energy drinks and the excitement of the suit."

Steve frowns a bit and looks more serious at Tony “The question is, do you want it to be just that?”

Tony looks over at Steve, knowing exactly what he's asking and fully aware of what his answer would be if he let himself be honest. He doesn't want it to be 'just that', but he can't just come out and say it in front of Steve and Bruce. Tony shakes his head from side to side, as if he can't really respond, though his mind is giving him a very strong, and very clear answer.

Both Steve and Bruce just smirk at each other, knowing the answer. Bruce sighs and pats Tony’s shoulder “Alright, buddy, get some rest. And think about it” Then Steve and Bruce leave.

After Steve and Bruce leave, Tony is left alone with his own thoughts, as he realizes that he now has to face the situation on his own. He can't keep trying to play it off as 'just a little accident' or "a result of late nights and energy drinks." It was all real, and he just has to find out how much it means to Y/n. He walks around the lab, considering everything that has happened over the course of the evening, and the different feelings that he feels for her. That brief kiss that had occurred. He's completely lost in his own thoughts as he walks to his room, pacing up and down.

Meanwhile I’m sitting on my bed and even though I’m rather tired, I’m wide awake, thinking of all the nights I spent with Tony in his lab. We were really good friends, but is that really everything? It was all getting to my head. I look over at the clock to see it's already 11:30 pm. I sigh and decide it was no use, so I get up and walk back to the lab, wanting to sketch some more ideas.

Tony is wide awake, as well. The memories from the night keep running through his head and he can't help but notice the way his heart begins to beat faster as he plays those memories back in his head over and over. He thinks about the late nights together where they would work on the suit, the jokes and laughs that they shared while doing so, the excitement that they felt and the brief kiss that they had shared, the blushing cheeks... Tony lies in bed for a while, struggling to fall asleep. He feels just a little bit energized from the night, but more so, he's feeling a bit restless as he struggles to process the events of tonight. He too notices how late it is and he decides to head back to the lab.

I'm sitting on the chair, hair up in a messy bun, looking over some sketches and trying to find some more new ideas to add. I'm so focused on the sketches that I don't even notice Tony entering the lab

Once Tony reaches the lab, he immediately catches a glimpse of the sketches and how casually I am seated with my hair up. I look very relaxed, almost as if this is normal for me to be up at this time in the lab, and Tony can't help but notice how the night had only brought out the most natural and casual side of me. He is also struck by how lovely you look in this setting...

Tony watches as I keep sketching, and he can't help but be charmed by how focused and completely lost I am in the task at hand. He finds himself feeling the urge to hug me and just rest his face against my shoulders to breath in my scent.

I’m just trying out some sketches of additional ideas on the suit when I suddenly feel a pair of strong, warm arms wrapping around myself and I jump slightly. “Shhh, it’s me” It's Tony, who has silently approached me from behind and wrapped his arms tightly around me, pulling me into a warm embrace. He rests his head on my shoulder, the feeling of my hair against his face feeling extremely reassuring. I can feel the heat of his body as his breath is close to my neck.

I let out a breath shaky breath “Hey…” Tony smiles as he feels my body relax in his embrace, and he doesn't even bother to explain his sudden move. He just enjoys the warmth of the moment, just as I am, as he wraps his arms even tighter around me, pulling me closer. “Aren't you asleep?” I ask curiously, ignoring the beating of my heart

"Nope." Tony answers softly, as he continues to tightly pull me into his embrace. He doesn't want to let go. He enjoys this moment of just being close to me without saying a word, and he can't help but breath in the scent of me that fills his nostrils. I relax more in his embrace and lean back slightly into him, closing my eyes and resting my hand onto his arms, feeling his muscles beneath his skin. Tony leans his head towards me, and he gently gives my cheek a small kiss, without saying anything. He feels my body slightly tense up at this, but I don't pull away. He can't help but blush at the fact that I’m allowing this to happen, as he pulls himself away, a small blush on his cheeks. I blush heavily and finally I turn my head slightly so now I'm facing him. We are just inches apart.

Tony stares deeply into my gaze as he can suddenly feel the intense connection between us. He can't help but be struck by everything that he's feeling when he looks into my eyes. He slowly moves his face forward, and he presses his lips onto mine, kissing me soft and gently. I can't help but blush heavily. The first kiss today in the lab was due to excitement, but this one now is different. This is a more intimate kiss, the kind where you slowly move forward, and you keep your lips connected to his. He pulls back after a few moments, just enough for our faces not to be touching anymore, but he is still close enough to feel my breath as it touches his face.

“What was that for..?” My voice is not more than a whisper, just for him to hear

"It was just... an urge to show you my appreciation." Tony answers softly, as he continues to smile at me. His gaze is still soft and gentle, but there's also this slightly confident tone in his voice which hints at the possibility that this 'urge' is something more. He pauses for a moment, as he sees my reaction to his statement, and he waits for my respond.

I smile at him softly “Then let my show you my appreciation” I turn around a bit in my chair, now able to move my arms and lay my hand onto his chest

He doesn't say anything in reply, but he leans forward and slowly presses his lips against mine once more, in a longer, and more intimate kiss. He can't help but let out a soft noise. He continues to kiss me soft and gently, wrapping his arms around me now and pushing himself even closer to me. The kiss feels very tender and affectionate, and he can't help but feel a bit vulnerable in this situation, as if this was all just too perfect to be true. We pull apart and look at each other. He shakes his head as he regains composure and smiles softly at me.

“God, I love that smile”, I say to him, laying one hand against his cheek softly.

Tony wraps his arms around me tightly. He leans closer and he presses his forehead against mine, his eyes closing and taking a deep breath. “And I love you”

My smile grows even more as I hear those words from him. “I love you too” I whisper and he pulls me in for another loving kiss before looking at me again with his charming smile. We continue to stand in the lab, holding each other and no one of us wanting to let go as we finally confessed our feelings to each other. And it’s just the perfect ending to the work on his suit.

A/N Here is my complete masterlist with all the ff, imagines, oneshots, smut and whatever. Check it out and leave a like :)

#marvel #iron man #avengers #tony stark #fluff #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #oneshot #friends to lovers #tony stark fluff #tony stark x reader #rdj #robert downey jr #mcu #marvel imagines

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kierongillen · 2 months

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i have to know - as a disco elysium fan who didnt do disco, what would you say is essential disco listening for me?

I'm hugely behind on the asks, but I have to answer this one, because I'm going to answer a connected but completely different question, and then maybe then loop back to you. I'm just looking for an excuse to ramble, and do the writer equivalent of a warm-up sketch (i.e. waste time).

My apologies.

If you wake up and decide that you want to get into a whole genre of music, there's basically two tactics.

(There's also the "Why would anyone care to get into something they don't care about", which is one of the few things I have a "There's two sorts of people..." response to - those who when presented by something unknown either think "why should I know about that?" or "why don't I know about that?" I'm the latter, and it's served me well.)

The first tactic is simple.

Jump on a genre with Best Of in the title and follow your pleasure response. Here's a Spotify one. What interests you? What excited you? What makes you laugh? Probably explore more of that. If not, indulge widely, and see what sticks. At a glance, Disco playlists seem to have the problem of most playlists, in that strictly not everything on it is disco per se. For example, Dancing Queen strictly speaking isn't a disco song - but it's a song about disco, in every way. But if anything has found its way on a playlist, it's found its way on for a reason.

In your case, you're interested in what Disco resonates with Disco Elysium. Which I've bought for C, but not played, but I'm aware of in a "if I was still a games journalist, this is clearly one I would write a lot about." I spent years writing about Planescape Torment, and I know a spiritual successor when I see one.

This makes me think the area you want is basically the classier end - the big bleak emotions, the chilliness, the control, lonely on a dancefloor, lonely everywhere, oh-so-much cocaine, and - to steal Paul Lester's line - glass mountains on fire.

Which leads back to the second way of getting into a genre of music - which is to hit a major artist, and hit them hard.

When asked about "how shall I get into a band" my advice is actually the opposite of what I'm about to give. If you just want to get into a band, get Best Of, see what tracks you like, then go to the albums they're from. But if you're trying to get into a whole genre of music, that's a more serious endeavour, and may reward the opposite approach.

Basically pick a key album from a key band, and get into it, and grow from there. Read about the band - you don't need much, but a little helps. Learn how to listen to what their tracks do. And then you use that band as the single point of knowledge you have to orientate yourself to everything else you listen afterwarads.

There's a huge danger to this - basically, no-one is more ignorant than someone with a little knowledge. You have to be aware that you are the person who knows a bit about Boss Baby, and using that to get into things other than Boss Baby.

The strength is that it's a more holistic, lived in knowledge than just skimming the surface. You understand the music better as an artifact of their times, made by people, responding to their specific situation - which adds different flavours to your appreciation of it. Sure, your own response and how it finds a place in your life is always the thing which over-rules anything else - but the more you can listen for, the more you can hear, the more you can get from a work of art.

Anyway - I'm telling you to go and listen to Risque by Chic.

Chic are basically fucking awesome. If you don't know Disco at all, the opening Good Times chilly ironic take on American late-seventies culture is a great and (I suspect) Disco Elysium relevant intro. You'll know it as a sample, if nothing else, and the eight minutes version that opens Risque is a great way to think about it as both music for dancing (it is endless) and music for listening (it is boundless).

I got Risque as Paul Lester went to bat for it so hard in the Unknown Pleasures book the Maker stuck on the cover in 1995 (it was covering 20 albums that had fell out of the critical conversation, and it absolutely changed the dirction of my listening in the period). Here's Lester writing about Risque more recently for a taste, as the original piece doesn't appear to be online. I just read it in my copy, and it's a burst of love, describing it Disco as music about love - never sex, only love, and mainly love that is denied. That seems solid, at least for the best of chic.

Risque is the Chic album that Lloyd from Phonogram would have been listening to, certainly. I know I did.

(Plus At Last I Am Free from C'est Chic, obv)

There's a lot of Chic to listen to - their own work, especially in the period, and all their productions. Their work with Sister Sledge is of particular import - Lost In Music was one of the working title for Phonogram, and you can see and hear why. They're also the Disco band whose influence is perhaps most obvious in other bands. Everyone liked Chic. No Chic, no Orange Juice, no Orange Juice, no Smiths, etc.

Sister Sledge was the first live band I was at. My mum went to see them when she was eight and a half months pregnant. The temptration to say I'd have heard Lost in Music then and sold is tempting, but ahistorical - it's well before their work with Chic.

Anyway - get into Chic. It'll make your life better - and when your life isn't better, it's a superior context to lose yourself.

However, to go back to your question, as a Disco Elysium fan, I'm not sure it's actually THIS Disco you're looking for.

How about Disco Inferno?

Not Disco at all, but most like itself than anything else, which sounds like what I understand about Disco Elysium. right?

(DI Goes Pop is the starting place)

#Chic #Disco #disco elysium

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moonstruckme · 7 months

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Oh last one I swear. But nobody seems to write any Peter fics where the reader is an artist/art student and I just always saw the concept as rlly cute. Like science student and art student do you see where I’m going with this 😋 anyways. Just brainrot. Idk if this counts as a request lmao

-🍁/🍂 (iforgot what emoji I use)

Hi again, haha! I didn't set out to answer both your asks in one day, but I already had this one ready to go, so. I know you didn't necessarily request it, but I decided to write a little blurb anyway, hope you like it! (And it's the first emoji, but I'll know it's you either way :))

Peter Parker x artist!reader ♡ 598 words

Peter used to get an odd sort of pride from thinking he was always the last one on campus, messing around in the lab until the early hours of the morning. But then he’d met you, and you’d totally dethroned him.

There’s bright light coming from inside one of the art studios when Peter passes by, and he detours, heading for it. He’s a mutant that can run on an average four hours of sleep and his eyes are aching, so he can’t imagine how exhausted you must be. But if he didn’t interfere, he wonders if you’d go home at all.

When he enters the studio, he has to close his eyes against the sparks jumping off your project.

“Sweetheart?”

The light behind his eyelids fades, and he opens them to see you lifting your welder’s helmet, setting your torch down on the table beside you.

“Peter, hey.” You blink as though coming out of a fog. “Are you already done for the night?”

He smiles at you, moving closer to admire your sculpture. It doesn’t look quite halfway done, but to Peter’s crude eye, it seems like it’s coming along beautifully. You’d shown him your sketch before you’d started, it’s going to be massive and elaborate by the time you’re done. But you won’t be finishing tonight.

“It’s nearly four, baby. Time to pack up.”

Your eyes widen. “Wait, seriously?” He nods, and you purse your lips, displeased with the passage of time. “Okay, you go ahead. I’m going to get to a good stopping point, and I’ll meet you at home.”

It sounds reasonable, but Peter knows you better.

“You can get back to it tomorrow,” he says, slipping your helmet off for you and placing it carefully beside your torch. “Don’t you think it’ll come out even better if you’re well-rested while you work? I don’t want my girl getting in a blowtorch accident.”

“I’m not that tired,” you argue, but your blinks are slow, almost dazed, and Peter suspects that if he put a pillow under your head right now, you’d pass out in a hot second. “And I’m too good to burn myself.”

Peter grins. “That’s true,” he agrees, moving behind you to untie your apron. You let him slip it over your head. “It’s looking really great, by the way.” He undoes in the tight bun in the back of your head, knowing your scalp has to be sore. “Did you make any changes from your original idea?”

“A couple.” You lean into Peter’s fingers as he massages the back of your head lightly, shaking your hair out at the roots. “Sometimes it just goes where it wants to go, you know?”

“I don’t,” he says, taking your hand to lead you out of the room, “but I believe you.”

You chuckle. It turns into a yawn halfway through. “Right, sorry. What’d you do today, bug boy?”

Peter hangs your apron on the hook by the door, closing it behind you. You’re all but leaning into him, further proof that you’re more drowsy than you’re letting on. “You know, bug things.”

“Come on.” You bump your hip into his lightly, and your voice is by no means loud, but it creates a soft echo in the dark, empty building. “You got to see my project, tell me about yours.”

Peter shrugs. “I was just messing around with environmental nanotoxicology.”

Your laugh rings out, surprised and joyous, in the silent hallway. “I have no idea what that means,” you say, pulling him closer to you by his hand. “Tell me about it?”

#tasm peter parker #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x y/n #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x self insert #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker fanfic #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker fic #tasm!peter parker drabble #tasm!peter parker scenario #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker oneshot #tasm!peter oneshot #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!spiderman x reader

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brabblesblog · 2 months

Text

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.

Ch 6: My youth is a scab: under it is a wound that leaks blood

A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)

After the events of ‘Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.

Astarion and Ban make their first move in reconnecting with her past.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

Read on AO3.

Masterlist

Astarion and Ban, by @dafna-winchester

Walking through the artisans’ shops beneath the palace was always an interesting thing, but Ban found herself rather distracted today. Arms linked with her husband’s, she allowed her mind to drift as he handled most of the conversation, chatting amiably and at great length with each artisan they encountered, moving from display to display, eventually pausing to consider commissioning yet another portrait of the two of them.

His voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

“I’ll have to consult my wife about the pose,” Astarion told the artist. “It’ll be on the throne, of course, but I do feel like a slightly different atmosphere would serve to make this piece unique.” He tapped the sketch. “We’ll discuss it and I shall reconvene with you.”

He led her away, making a beeline for the cobbler’s guild’s shop, likely to ask for a fresh pair of wyrmhide shoes to be made.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get a couple pairs this time, in case you keep soaking them.” She quipped, watching his lip curl in feigned irritation.

“Tch.” He rolled his eyes. “One day you’ll wake up to find all your clothes in the fountain. We’ll see how you feel then.”

“I’d be perfectly fine walking around naked,” she teased, and he coughed, stifling a small laugh.

“If only your skill in transforming was as good as your mouth,” he retorted. There was a quick, failed attempt to smack him on the arm; he caught it quickly and kissed her hand instead, smirking.

“I just started a tenday ago!” she insisted, but she knew he was right. There needed to be more effort in it, though she found herself uninterested. If they were to live forever there would inevitably be more instances where it would be much needed.

Astarion merely huffed in amusement, letting go of her hand.

Ban was all too content to let Astarion continue mingling, her thoughts flitting back to their practice sessions. It hadn’t been easy at all - as someone who prided herself on her martial prowess, any sort of magic had always felt unnecessary, a challenge that she never put any effort into mastering. Why learn to cast spells, when cold steel got the job done?

It was unsurprising then, that so far every effort to successfully turn into mist had failed. She’d done a little better in turning into a bat - a tiny, gray-furred version of herself, she lamented - but flying without panicking had eluded her. She’d been lucky; Astarion had taken to catching her whenever she’d inevitably dropped out of the air like a rock, squealing as if her life was on the line.

He’d always chide her, reminding her that she could simply transform back mid-fall, but he always caught her anyway; every time, without fail. She smiled softly at a particular memory: when she’d flown further than she’d ever managed before. Overcome with excitement at her success, she’d turned to look at him, and realized just how far she’d flown. She could barely see him, his lithe form hardly more than a smudge in the distance. Seeing him so far away had deeply unnerved her. Panic had flooded her and the rhythm of her wingbeats had faltered. She’d screeched in terror, plummeting towards the ground.

He’d crossed the distance in an instant, her tiny furred belly landing in his delicate hands yet again. Ban wasn’t sure she’d ever felt more safe than in that moment.

The cobbler seemed happy to have received a work order for five pairs of shoes, all wyrmhide but dyed in various shades - his usual black, vermillion, a deep blue, an emerald green, and white. The last one amused Ban; for someone so concerned about the state of their clothing, white would be challenging.

The next stop was for jewelry, it seemed. Astarion chatted with the jeweler while eyeing the selection. Ban’s eyes roamed over the pieces on display, too preoccupied to register much of anything. Eventually, he dangled a large pair of earrings up towards the light, admiring the large rubies set into them. Ban looked on, watching them swing merrily from her husband’s fingers, the stones sparkling. Rubies, just like his eyes, just like-

Arlette’s favorite necklace. The ruby in it was nowhere near the size of these, but Ban remembered it all too well. Once, she’d tried it on and dropped it, the necklace quickly disappearing into the thick carpet of their home. She’d cried, knowing Arlette would be upset, and had Roderich been home, there would undoubtedly be yet another session of “corrections”. Adrien had come to her rescue, crawling on hands and knees with her to find the necklace before Arlette came into the room.

Adrien. Astarion had noted something off about the way Roderich had spoken about him.

The thought of seeing her parents, of the decision she’d made a month ago, still hangs heavy, but she felt like it must be done for him - for Adrien. They weren’t the closest of siblings, but still. He’d suffered under Roderich’s hand too, under Arlette’s blind eye. After everything that led to the fight with the Netherbrain, the idea of freeing her brother from their parents felt relatively easy. Or at least, that’s what she told herself.

Astarion seemed to finally notice her silence.

“Love?” He asked, handing the earrings back to the jeweler to place in a little box. “Is something the matter?”

She opened her mind in response, sending him images: of her and Adrien as children, playing amongst the mirrors, of the incident with their mother’s necklace. Memories, few but all the more precious for it, of moments of peace - where they were simply siblings and friends, a brief respite from the horrors of their daily lives. Then her thoughts, as nebulous and unformed as they were; no concrete plan, simply a need to know how her brother is doing and to pry him away from her parents’ clutches, if possible.

He fell silent, taking the now-wrapped box and pressing it into her hands before continuing their slow walk through the shops.

“I had surmised as much,” he said quietly. As she tucked the box into her pocket he thinks, a small crease formed on his brows. “You did say you thought you should see them. I wondered, when nothing further came of that, but I did not want to press. We could…” he paused to admire a pocketwatch from yet another artisan, holding it up by the chain, “invite them to dinner. I assume you’d rather have them here in the palace than have us at the shop, or your old home?”

Ban nodded. “Would give us an advantage.”

“Not that we need it,” Astarion reminded. He reached into his pocket to retrieve his pouch; the watch was evidently to his liking. “But if it does provide some semblance of comfort, we shall do so. Encounters like that, when held in locations that remind you of unpleasant memories,” his eyes scanned the massive room, the former dungeons, and sighed, “are rarely pleasant. I’d love nothing more than to spare you that.”

She couldn’t help but lean against him, pressing a small, grateful kiss to his cheek. “We need to go see my father in the shop, at the least, to invite them.”

Astarion sat in the carriage, Ban’s hand clasped in both of his; she was sitting opposite him, both of them leaning forward. He hated seeing her nervous, her hands feeling colder than usual - not a common occurrence now that she’s undead - and restless. Her fingers twitched and he held them tighter, rubbing his warmer palms against hers. “Let me remind you one last time, Ban. You don’t have to.”

“I know. I want to, if only to close that chapter of my life,” she said, eyes locked onto his, as if he was the font from which she drew strength. A rare occurrence - the reverse had been true most of the time, especially before - but a cherished one.

They had a plan, yes, but plans are always changeable, are they not? “The offer is always open, of course. Say the word, and we can just… end all this nonsense.” In an attempt to cheer her up Astarion grinned, playfully baring a hint of fang. She instead closed the gap, kissing him hard. She was all teeth and aggression, her fang nicking his lip on accident. The taste of his own blood stirred a little hunger in him but even more so in her; the way her tongue slipped in and licked the blood told him all he needed to know.

As she devoured his mouth he rubbed her arms, trying to soothe. She soon broke the kiss, eyes wide and a little unfocused. “I’m ready,” she said, pitch a little high. Nodding, Astarion opened the carriage door and stepped out, holding out his arm to help his wife down.

In front of them the store loomed, a little too ominous for such a humble structure, and Ban almost seemed to shrink before it.

Biting back the nearly overwhelming urge to charge in and destroy everything in sight, Astarion laced his fingers through hers. He offered her one last comforting smile, and led the way in.

“Lord Ancunín,” Roderich said, looking up as Astarion sauntered in, rising to provide a cursory bow. When he noticed the woman walking in behind the nobleman, he went pale, standing ramrod straight, frozen as if paralyzed.

Ban, too, had met her father’s gaze. Her hand tightened around Astarion’s, squeezing almost painfully. She briefly tugged on his arm, then schooled herself. What would her father think if she tucked tail right now?

Better yet, why did she care what Roderich thought?

“Ban?” Roderich gasped, the shock holding him in place seemingly subsiding. He took two aggressive steps toward them, and Ban flinched slightly. Astarion, noticing her discomfort, shifted, placing himself between the two.

“Master Glasscraft,” Astarion said icily, “I’d appreciate it if you gave my wife and I some space.”

The man blinked for a second. “W-wife? That’s… that’s my daughter!” For a moment it seemed like Roderich intended to proceed anyway, that he’d attempt to push past Astarion. Instead he took a moment to regard the cold crimson eyes watching him, the way those cruel-looking lips were curled - ready to strike with the slightest provocation - and thought the better of it. “My lord,” he said, tone suddenly conciliatory, “you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to see my daughter again.”

Ban, who until this moment had been perfectly content allowing Astarion to take the lead, placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder. She sent a small thought from her mind to his - thank you, my love, but I can handle it.

Immediately he backed off, giving her a small nod. A small wave of gratitude reached her; he’s thankful she’d allowed him into her mind as she confronts her past. With it, however, is a small hint of resentment, one that made her raise her eyebrow at Astarion, but she says nothing for the moment. She took a step forward, letting go of his hand, straightening up to face Roderich.

“Hello, father,” she gritted out. “It’s… nice, seeing you again. I presume you’ve met my husband, Lord Astarion Ancunín.” Behind her, Astarion gave him a small, sardonic bow.

Ban couldn’t help but feel a swell pride at those words, at her terrible, beautiful beloved; at how far they’d both risen above what they were made for.

Roderich swallowed audibly. “I- yes, my little beauty,” he began, seeing Ban’s expression close off at the nickname, “I have indeed met your… husband. The, um, the esteemed successor to Lord Szarr’s estate!” He clapped his hands together with false mirth. “I am sure you’ve seen the mirror he’s purchased from me? You no doubt know he has good taste. It’s-”

“Silver, full length, inlaid with gold, in typical rococo style,” Ban finished for him; Roderich gave a jaunty nod of approval.

“You remember.” He smiled despite the tension in the room, almost taking a step towards her again before Ban crossed her arms. “I will admit one of our mercury mirrors would have provided a far superior product as you very well know, but as it stands the one Lord Ancunín bought has the best reflection silver can provide. You’ve no doubt seen yourself in it and seen how our mirrors have improved over the past four years.”

She wanted to roll her eyes. Four years she’d been gone, and of course, the first thing he wanted to talk about were the godsdamned mirrors. Ban opened her mouth, whether to either insult her father or humor him she wasn’t sure, but he spoke before she got the chance.

“Little beauty, your mother would be so elated to know you’re back. That you’ve made something of your life, I suppose, despite… our earlier reservations,” Roderich continued. “When you left, we assumed you’d end up in a far worse situation than… this.”

Astarion bristled, but kept his peace for her. He began pacing through the store, walking back and forth in a closed path, hands buried in his pockets - almost like a predator stalking its next kill. There was an edge to his thoughts, one that Ban noticed, but mistakenly attributed to mere indignation at her father’s behavior.

In truth Astarion’s mind churned as he paced, Roderich’s voice ringing in his head. Little beauty. Little beauty… gods.

Countless times he’d called her something similar - his pet. His precious treasure. His little love. He recalled how she’d disliked it, but at the time she’d hated everything else he did - how was he to discern the truth?

This is why I needed to know, he told himself, irritation the first feeling he sank into, a little apprehensive about examining the ones that lurked beneath it. Revulsion, self-hatred, guilt. He’d known that he reminded Ban of her father at times, but this new revelation deeply unnerved him.

She must’ve loathed him, he realized; not that he hadn’t been aware of that, but the depth of it still eluded him. The sheer venom in their relationship had meant he hadn’t really been too concerned by her displeasure. A response was a response after all, and her love had been so absent that he’d craved any sign of emotion. And didn’t she want to be denigrated to some extent, he’d reasoned with himself, just as she’d enjoyed it in bed?

He knew she’d forgiven him, but this made the idea of making amends even more daunting. How could he even begin to atone when even now, more than six months later, he was still unearthing new and horrifying ways he’d inadvertently tortured her with his twisted idea of love?

Ban watched him from the corner of her eye, concerned. Are you alright?

His eyes snapped back to her, and for a moment he looked stricken. As they locked eyes, however, he seemed to relax, visibly taking a deep breath. Perfectly fine; there is no need to concern yourself. His eyes flicked towards Roderich, a silent reminder to focus on the issue at hand.

She turned back to her father. “I daresay I did well by your standards. You wanted me to marry someone rich - that I did. Someone powerful - I did that too. He has both in much greater measure than you could have in your wildest dreams.” She didn’t add in the most important things: that her husband is someone who loves her, who sees her as his equal, someone that she loves beyond reason; there’s no point debating that with Roderich.

There was also the odd omission of her brother; and she wasn’t the only one who noticed. Her eyes flicked over to Astarion again; he gave her an almost imperceptible nod of understanding as the mental link passed the message along.

Roderich appeared to realize the veiled insult he’d just leveled at Astarion. “Ah- I mean, of course! That isn’t what I meant, little beauty. I merely meant, well. The Szarr family owned the palace, and then Lord Ancunín inherited it and…” he paused for a moment then shook his head. “I was just confused. Forgive me, I did not mean any offense.”

Ban noted that her father was keeping something from them. The way his eyes darted to Astarion every few seconds, as if her husband was a threat, was curious, as was the way he paused mid-sentence, as if he meant to say something else and then changed his mind. She felt a wave of irritation pass from Astarion to her. Turning, she saw him slap on the biggest, falsest grin as he finally stopped pacing and rounded on Roderich.

“And none taken!” Astarion declared, coming to a stop right next to the older man. “After all, you’re family now, and I understand if you find the - change - in last names odd. The Ancuníns are - let’s say - a distant branch of the Szarr clan, and since Cazador died without any heirs - may the gods have mercy on his soul,” he placed a hand on his chest, playing the role of a young man mourning his dearest departed relative so well Ban almost had to stifle a laugh, “the estate and mansion have passed into my possession.”

The act sent a small pang of nostalgia through Ban, memories of him playing the fop back in the day making her more than a little wistful. This didn’t escape his notice, of course; the mental link and her face were more than enough indication. His eyes met hers, and for a moment his gaze was pained.

“What I mean to say, Roderich,” he continued, wrapping an arm over the older man’s shoulder and tugging him close, “is that the estate is mine and your daughter’s, now. In fact, we would be delighted to host a small soiree in your honor. My beloved hasn’t seen her family in years, and we would be honored to have you and your family as our guests.”

That had been the plan: come to the shop without warning, catching Roderich by surprise, then invite the Glasscrafts over for dinner at the Crimson Palace. It would give Ban a chance to see her family in a more comfortable setting, and then decide if she wanted more contact or not.

Roderich squirmed in Astarion’s grasp. “Of - of course. We would be more than happy to come, my lord.”

Satisfied, Astarion dropped the act, letting go of Roderich. “Good. We expect to see you and your whole family at sunset in a tenday. Don’t be late,” he drawled, the coldness settling back. His eyes raked over Ban for a second.

Do you want to go?

She considered it and then nodded. As she turned around, however, Roderich finally gathered enough courage to reach for her - she felt his calloused hand wrap around her wrist.

“My little beauty, dear,” Roderich started. “You left us, you gave up on your family-”

Ban faced her father, for a moment tempted to do exactly as Astarion wanted and sic him on her father, perhaps even bite Roderich herself. Her lip curled, and behind her Astarion tensed, the bond ensuring the thought did not go unnoticed.

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed, glaring down at her father. “Don’t-”

Ban furiously snatched her hand away from Roderich, rubbing at her eyes. Don’t. He can’t be allowed to see her cry, not when he’d caused it countless times in her life, when he considered her tears a victory.

Easier said than done, however, the prickling feeling of impending tears not abating. Her eyes found the only source of solace in this cursed place, Astarion locking gazes with her. He took a step even before she could communicate anything, arm wrapping around her waist.

“We’ll be off, Master Glasscraft,” Astarion said, the anger simmering under the obviously insincerely pleasant tone. “As previously mentioned, Ban and I will be expecting you and your family in a tenday.”

Roderich tried again, mouth opening to say something more, but Astarion gave him a withering look that invited him to try it and find out. Falling silent, the older man sighed and stayed put, watching Astarion lead Ban out of the store and back to the carriage.

He still had an arm wrapped around her, fingers gently ghosting over her back in what he hoped were comforting touches. To his surprise she came to lie down on his side of the carriage, resting her head on his lap and looking up at him quietly.

Displays of unbridled emotional openness were still uncommon for her; she’d always been that way, but he didn’t fool himself into thinking he hadn't exacerbated the lack of it.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, “I can sit up.” As she moved he placed an arm across her chest, clasping her shoulder.

“I never uttered a word of complaint, did I?” He thumbed away a tear. “I insist; I don’t like seeing my darling so upset. If this eases you somewhat then I’d be delighted to have you crease my trousers.” He offered her a quick, easy smile that he hoped would soothe her.

Especially when I still feel terrible about the nicknames; Roderich’s words today were a weight in the forefront of his mind. He was quick to sever the mental bond before that thought had a chance to get to her; when she raised an eyebrow in question he merely shrugged. His other hand ran through her hair, tracing the braids there absently.

Ban relaxed under his touch, the tears slowing somewhat. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Seeing him again wasn’t easy, especially given the circumstances of, well. Everything.”

He resisted the urge to tell her about the thoughts plaguing him; for now settling on lighter things. For her sake. “That was a rather impressive display of knowledge back there, with the mirror.” he stated carefully. “I admit I was rather surprised when he mentioned mercury mirrors; it’s a wonder he’s survived this long working with the material.”

She laughed, a loud, acerbic sound. “Astarion, you think he crafts the mirrors himself?” She shook her head and nuzzled against his thigh; he couldn’t help the sudden intake of breath or the shiver that ran through him.

“I suppose not,” he conceded. “So, hire some unfortunate soul, teach them how to make mirrors, and then once they’re ill, replace them?” A small scoff escaped his lips. “A waste of resources. You would do better keeping them in your employ and instead only produce silver mirrors.”

“I don’t disagree,” Ban looked up at him. “Silver would be better for the health of your mirror-makers, sure, but it wouldn’t be as expensive to sell.” Her hand rose, cupping his cheek. “I did tell you. The shop was his only love.”

Astarion felt her thumb brush over his cheekbones, wondering if the gesture soothed her; he mimicked the motion, tracing her own in turn. They weren’t as sharp nor as defined as his, but they were perfect, the shape of her face perfectly molded into the curve of his palm. The all-too-familiar swell of affection rose in him and he huffed.

“That is unfortunate, and dare I say his loss. The one thing he should have loved best is mine now,” he murmured, “and I am never letting go.”

Not again, not ever; and now that he was starting to believe that he was enough, he knew he could do anything and be everything she wished him to be. It aided in quieting that small seed of resentment he’d been harboring and keeping sealed tight in his breast.

It aided in softening the horror his new discovery had been plaguing him with, too.

The carriage began to move; he held her waist, keeping her secure. For a moment they were both silent, both lost in thought, contemplating what had just happened.

Ban broke the silence. “You’re thinking too loudly, Astarion.” He could tell she was amused, and more than a little worried.

“Am I that easy to read, love?” Of course she saw through it, through the feigned disinterest and the not-too-carefully worn guise of that’s not important, all I want is for you to be alright - not that it wasn’t true, of course it is - but he did need to talk about it.

“Not exactly hiding it, Astarion,” she mumbled, and he smiled slightly, chagrined. He gently nudged her to shift in his lap, facing away. His hands gathered up some of her loose hair, separating it out into sections. He’d helped her braid it before, and he wasn’t the best at it, but he had to admit that he found the repetitive motion soothing. The task was a good exercise for his nimble fingers, hands that hadn’t felt the heat of combat in what feels like forever.

“Perhaps not,” he admitted. “Your father’s preferred term of endearment - little beauty - irks you, doesn’t it?” The braid he was working on slowly took form, and he paused to admire it. “I would hazard a guess and assume my own names for you… elicited the same response.”

Ban craned her neck to watch his work; he held the partially done braid up for her to see. “Not bad,” she commented. There was a small pause, where she gave him a look that seemed to be more fretful than anything else, and continued. “You’re right. It’s… he’s always reduced me, my mother - my brother, even - into things, to ensure his success. His little beauty to marry off. His broodmare, to give him successors. And of course his heir, to carry his name into the future.”

“You haven’t answered the other half of the question,” Astarion chided, eyes pointedly fixed on the half-done braid instead of her eyes.

“Your assumption,” Ban pointed out, “which isn’t wrong, of course, but neither is it some huge, unforgivable thing.”

“Ban…” he murmured, voice low. Dare he hope?

She sighed, hand curving around his chin to make him look at her; he saw nothing but earnestness there.

“You’re fine. We’re fine. That was the past, and you stopped the moment I asked you to. There is no issue here.”

He couldn’t help the relieved laugh he barked out, the tension leaving his body. “I - I suppose you’re right.” He searched for something else to say, and settled on a question. “When was the last time you saw Roderich, and what were the circumstances of your… departure?” He surmised she was likely to have run away, from what Roderich had said; he was curious, but this was also a test of sorts. Would she trust him enough to tell him more?

Ban frowned, thinking. “I ran away. It was after they wanted to have me wed.”

“Ah!” he exclaimed, all faux cheeriness; his hands resumed their work on the braid. “You escaped the clutches of some disgusting, lecherous lout. A good decision; it does not surprise me that you effortlessly repeated the feat when it came to leaving me.”

There wasn’t any bitterness there, merely a need to make light of things. She chuckled and nodded. “My to-be-husband was not hideous, however. He was tall, I daresay even taller than you,” she laughed as he let out a loud, offended scoff, then continued. “He was also rather handsome. I just didn’t want him, nor feel anything for him.”

“You could have, provided with enough time. Although…” he cocked his head at her, teasingly, “had you done so you wouldn’t have been with such a devastatingly handsome vampire, would you?”

“Devastatingly arrogant, yes,” she said, simpering up at him. “But, I met him, and he was rather insistent on being betrothed as soon as possible. He was prepared: dowry, a date for the marriage, the guest list, which apparently my parents had input in…”

Astarion yet again felt pique surge in him: for her, but also at the ease in which this all flowed now. He forced himself to refocus on the braid instead. “Let me continue the story, then. One night, when everyone was not paying mind, the poor maiden slipped out, likely through the window of the house, her meager possessions the only thing she carried with her.” He said it all with an amused, if slightly dismissive air.

“I… well, yes, mostly. Except that it was midday.” She looked at him with a slightly quizzical expression; for a moment it seemed like she wanted to say more, then thought better of it. “You’re getting good at this,” Ban pivots, nodding at the almost finished braid.

He shrugged. “It’s not so difficult to do; a twist here, a turn there…” he finished off his work and raised a hand, letting his fingers dance, as though rolling a coin between them. “What am I if not skilled with my hands, hm? You know that better than most.”

A smile broke over her features and she smirked. “So is that what all that braiding was for? To show off your dexterity?” She reached out to take his hand, running her rougher fingers over his soft knuckles.

“I could be persuaded to demonstrate it in a different manner,” he purred, eyes flicking up to watch their approach to the Crimson Palace. “And the braids may prove rather helpful in that regard.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. The braids stay on this time? She’d always liked having them in her hair. Before the rite he’d occasionally helped her braid her hair; in the days after it she’d done them herself - he’d found it beneath him to do so. He’d always helped her take them out, however, one of their nightly routines before inevitably ending up in each other’s arms. The thought of his hands tugging her braids while he took her was intriguing, warmth beginning to unfurl in her core. “I might be amenable. After all that, I definitely need a distraction.”

He gave her a careful once-over, to make sure this wasn’t merely her skirting her emotions, that it was something she desired. He figured that it was skirting somewhat, but it was also a request for help - she didn’t really want to think about the events of today. He smirked, then gave her hair a small, playful tug. “Then a distraction you shall get, darling. As always, you need only ask, and it will be yours.”

He’d had ideas on how to do this, to reintroduce a little rougher play. The idea of holding onto her head, threading his fingers through those locks as her mouth-

Astarion shook the mental image off. “Let’s get home and-”

The rest of his words were swallowed up by a moan as Ban turned her head to mouth at his clothed cock. She pulled away and he viciously fought the urge to hold her head there and fuck her mouth; he watched her sit up, his eyes locked onto those lips.

“Of course,” Ban said, mirth in her eyes. “Once we get home, I’ll let you distract me all you want.”

Getting home could not be any slower, he thought.

Getting to the bedroom was a challenge, especially since she couldn’t keep her hands off of her husband in between attempts to strip off her own clothes. Their lips were locked, hands roaming over each other’s bodies, each trying to strip without ending their kiss. Her shoes and trousers came off, abandoned somewhere in the main hallway. He seemed to be having just as much trouble as she was; a shoe went flying and he cursed, lips parting from hers with a groan of frustration as he lifted a leg to tug off the other.

“Godsdamned-” he cursed, tugging it off with one hard yank. “You see the issue when the wyrmhide gets soaked and then dries? It shrinks.”

“Oh, shut up.” The moment the shoe was off she grabbed his face, kissing him again. He smelled the way he always had, that lovely perfume a blend of notes that he always made for himself, even now. But underneath was his own scent, one that matches hers, that slight hint of earth and death. But there was more, so much more. That warm flesh under her hands, the ragged, hot breaths, the racing of his heart. Racing, because of her.

“Mh-” He tried to get a word in then gave up the attempt, instead pushing her against the wall of the hallway. A small whoosh of breath escaped her and she shot him a look of surprise, desire raging through her. She broke the kiss to speak; he growled disapprovingly at the loss of contact.

“Seems like you want something,” Ban said, coy. She knew perfectly well what. Astarion fixed her with a wry grin, eyes lidded, head tilted - the picture of seduction.

“My love, I only ever want one thing - you.” He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing the same air. “I crave you, long for you, want you.” His hand slipped under her shirt, tracing a path to her breast. “You did so well last time, showing me exactly what you wanted me to do. Perhaps you could be enticed to give me a little…” he found a nipple, playing with it absently, “…more?”

Ban felt her nipples harden at his touch, a low groan escaping her lips. “I could. What do-” her words hitched as he mouthed at the base of her neck; both hands now focused on the rather urgent task of unbuttoning her shirt. The cool air greeted her as her shirt opened, baring her torso.

“What do I want?” He said, blazing a path of searing kisses and nips from her collarbone down between her breasts, then further towards her belly. “I want you to trust me,” Astarion whispered against her skin, looking up at her, “enough to let me be rougher. More… aggressive.”

Those eyes pleaded, soft and gentle despite the intensity of his kisses. A hand slipped down to adjust his hardness, drawing Ban’s attention, and all of a sudden her throat was dry. “Yes, Astarion. I… I daresay I’d like that. Very much.”

She’d liked it before, Astarion’s roughness. It had been a discovery they’d made within the confines of their tent in the Shadow-Cursed lands and it had always been just right. He had ruined it bit by bit after he’d ascended, but she figured it was time to try again; she’d missed it and knew he had as well.

“Very good,” he replied, eyes steely and mischievous again, tucking away the softness without reservation. “Remind me, my darling: what do we say, when we want the play to end?”

“Sussur,” she breathed, and was rewarded with an approving purr and Astarion using his mouth to slowly tug her underwear down, his hot breath ghosting against her mound as he did.

He replaced his mouth with a hand, pulling the fabric the rest of the way off. She rested her hand on his shoulder as he slipped them off her legs, then tossed them over his shoulder. Astarion licked his lips; on his knees he was at eye level with her core. “Sussur, indeed,” he murmured, mouth ghosting over her, but not quite touching just yet. “You look delicious from here, darling. I almost can’t resist…” a small lap of his tongue, warm and pleasant and just perfect against her folds, just enough to hint at what more he could be doing, “...a taste.”

“Astarion.” Ban bit back the moan, barely managing it. “If you want to lead, just do it. Quit teasing.” She wasn’t irritated, and the idea of being teased to hell and back is something she so desperately wanted, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to give him a little cheek. His answering smirk was mischievous; he was all too aware that she was at his mercy.

Half-lidded eyes met hers as he rose, pressing his body against hers. “We’ve just started, my sweet. You must be patient while I decide exactly what I’m going to do to you.” The slow roll of his hips against hers was pleasant, his cock hard and rubbing against her in slow, increasingly insistent circles, the clothes separating them merely adding to the much-needed friction.

Ban met his gaze, then brazenly reached down to cup his erection. Astarion hissed, eyes glinting dangerously at having his authority challenged, but also with a hint of barely hidden delight. She couldn’t help the laugh that erupted out of her. “How about you make me suck your cock, my lord? You can do all the things your pretty little head was thinking of whilst braiding my hair.” She paused briefly, a rebellious smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “If you think you can make me, that is.”

Her own sudden boldness took her by surprise, but even more so her husband; she watched his eyes widen, cock twitching against her palm, the warm heat more than a little gratifying. After a moment, his eyes narrowed into a searing, sultry glare.

Astarion’s answer was breathy, more growled than spoken. “Bedroom.” he turned, already working on the buttons of his doublet, “Now.”

If you would like to see more of these two and their story, consider reading my other entries in the series "If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there."

Taglist: @tavamarie @ayselluna @enterthedreams @coltaire @qiific3 @misscrissfemmefatale @vixstarria @eatyourheartoutmylove @linllewellyn @battisonsgf @micropoe10 @thegoodwitchs-blog @akirahime @velcyrptr @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @babblebrain-blog @asterordinary @last-but-not-the-least @artist4theworld @gracemisconduct @decedentcoffeewizard @rootin-tootin-n-kind @pursuitseternal @youngtacobanana @krispeenuggiez @girlygmer-blog @cheezits4lyfe @vinegarjello @the0ldmann @wisteriaofthegraves @midnight-musings-of-nyx @toni-winchester @icybluepenguin @beepersteeper @hereliesblackdragon

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redheadspark · 6 days

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Helloooo!!

May I request Benedict Bridgerton with #8?

Thank you in advance :)

A/N - Thanks for requesting this, friend!

Nonchalance

Summary - Benedict hates making decisions, whereas his wife doesn't mind

Warning - just some fluff

“Ah, there you are darling!”

Benedict popped his head up at the sound of your voice, you closing the door behind you to give the pair of you privacy in his personal studio. He had a sketch book in hand, sitting at his desk that was clustered with paperwork and some ball invitations, a common custom for a newlywed couple during the Season. Though that was not on your mind, and clearly not on Benedict’s since he liked rather stressed and anything with his charcoal in hand and a knitted look to his brow.

You eyed him in concern, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing highly important, my dear,” He replied in a huff, though he smiled at you as you glided over to the desk and perched slightly on the top with your arms folded, “I’m simply too stressed to draw anything.”

“Is it the invitations?” You asked him, looking over at the pile briefly to see the plenty of enveloped labeled “Bridgerton” on the top. There had to haven been at least 15 invitations there in all shapes and sizes. You and Benedict were looking forward to some time before as Newlyweds, initially you both going to go a holiday together away from the city for at least a few weeks before finally settling into your new life together. But of course, society and the new season around the corner seemed to think otherwise, already sending you plenty of letters and invitations to both friends and aquaintances of your families. Although you both loved going to these balls, mainly because you two met at a ball one season ago, it was much better to be together and have that alone time.

“You know, we can always say no to these,” You admitted to him, seeing him crack a slight smile, “I bet you anything that some of these balls are going to be happening at the same time anyways. I think some of these families are going to understand us not attending,”

You loved your new husband to death, but sometimes he was a bit of a people pleaser when it came to society and his reputation. His family was well known throughout the town, and the last thing Benedict and his family wanted to do was to have negativity against their name. Even when you met him and knew of his name, you heard plenty of stories and fake gossip. But those rumors and tall tales were swept away as you fell in love with Benedict and how he slipped into your heart.

“You make it sound very easy, darling. But we can’t just—“ You stopped him from talking anymore as you huffed and grabbed the large pile of invitations in your fingers. You placed them in your lap, Benedict watching with wide eyes as you were now flicking through every single envelope while looking at the label to see the family who sent it.

“Yes….not them…..their parties are mediocre…..hate that family,” You were sorting them rapidly, putting the good invitations on the left and tossing the rejected ones to the right. Benedict’s mind was spinning, his head moving back and forth as you were still going over each other and looking rather calm and cool about it.

“Their reputation is terrible…..the party last year was a disaster….they’re lovely….I love their mother….and done!” You said in a smile, placing the last envelope on the approval pile before look over at your husband again with a shrug, “That was easy!”

Benedict was still in shock, getting up from his chair and gesturing back at forth between the two piles,

“How….how did you..”

“Darling,” You replied, sitting up to be toe to toe with Benedict as he was grinning down at you, “I happen to know all of these families thanks to my mother and father. After going to plenty of these balls, I tend to pick up on the good ones and the bad ones,”

“Yet you choose so nonchalantly and with ease,” Benedict comment as you laughed.

“I’ve done it before, plenty of times when I came out in society. In fact, the very ball where you and I met was a result in me doing this very practice,” You explained, Benedict tilting his head at you as you admitted that to him. It was true, you choosing the ball to attending as a guest so long ago and making your mother go ballistic. She thought of it as brash, too bold, and because of your own stuborness you would not be seen or eligible for marriage.

She almost lost it from the news of Benedict asking to court you.

“I’m glad you decided to go that night, as was I since I was smitten with you and that midnight blue dress you wore,” He explained, lacing your fingers together and leaning down to kiss the top of your head with gentlest and affection, “Since then, you’ve been so good to me,”

“As you to me,” You hummed in agreement, “I do believe that we compliment each other rather well compared to our friends,”

“I don’t tend to think of other couples and other marriages, I happy to like my own marriage,” he joked, though you could see the love in his eyes and hear it in his voice. Benedict was over the moon when you two danced for the first time, even after when you two snuck away and talked about art and going to art school. He was surprised with your interest in art, though you were no artist yourself but you wished to learn the history. You in return would listen to him for hours in end talking about his own love for art and how he preferred painting over sketching.

It was obvious that you two liked one another, and the rest of history.

“Don’t think I don’t, because I do,” You agreed, kissing him lightly and giving him a slight tug with your joined hands, “Now, let’s get to bed. No need to think of these invitations.”

Benedict followed you willingly, leaving the stack of envelopes behind as well as his sketch that he was drawing, that sketch happened to be your profile.

The End.

April Prompt Session

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x female reader #fanfiction #writing

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feelbokkie · 2 months

Text

Things He’d Write in His Planner for You

❤︎ January 14th: Diary Day ❤︎

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

Couples swap cutesy yearly planners/diaries where they write important dates for each other to remember.

genre: fluff headcanon

pov: 2nd person

description: some of the little dates that skz would add to their planner for you

pairing: bf!skz x reader

warnings: none

word count: 1,087

Love Day! Masterlist

방 찬 (Bang Chan)

His days off and vacation days

You already knew what Chan was like when you started dating him. His work always seemed to be a priority. His late nights at the studio. His long practices. Promotion periods. It always seemed like he was too busy for you. You almost didn’t date him because of it. And while Chan has been trying his best to make time for you, you felt like he was overworking himself more to be with you. You were just worried that he was spreading himself thin. So when Diary Day came around, you were surprised that he had time to make one for you. You didn’t even think about making him one, not wanting to add to his stressful schedule. You were even more surprised to find every single one of his days off and vacations written and highlighted.

“Here, that way it’s easier to plan dates. Although, I’ll always make time for you, m'kay?”

이 민 호 (Lee Know)

His work schedule

When you told him that you wanted to swap planners for diary day, he looked at you confused at first. He just stood there and blinked at you at first. "What, are you planning on forgetting my birthday or our anniversary?" He was mostly teasing you. He wasn't sure what to put at first, so he just did the basics like birthdays (including your step-cats' birthdays) and anniversaries. He left it like that for a little bit, nearly blank with a few days. Until he got his schedule for the first half of the year. He knew you were going to ask anyway and he thought it'd be easier for you two to plan around dates. He mostly just put in interviews and when he would be out of the country or when he would be MCing. But then he added in all of the recording sessions, dance practices, and other practices. He even put in little notes reminding you that you could go sit in on practices if you wanted, definitely not because he wants you there.

"You have no excuse, I better see you at every event."

서 창 빈 (Changbin)

Anniversaries

He’s going overboard. He’s not just writing the anniversary of when you two started dating. He’s writing in the day that he first saw you. The day he knew he was in love with you. The first time you two held hands. First kissed. First ‘I love you.’ The day you two had your first fight. All the little firsts in your relationship and other important memories that you didn’t even think of to put in your diary for him.

“These days are important! We have to remember them so we can tell our kids about them one day.”

황 현 진 (Hyunjin)

Sketches

He started by writing quotes for each month since he didn't know what else to put. And then he decided to decorate the planner a bit to make it look nicer since it was pretty plain before. Was inspired by his favorite picture you posted online. Did the one sketch and then figured that he could just do that. Little things like the cup of coffee he's drinking or your favorite flower. At one point, he was picking up the planner more than his sketchbook. A few times, on the days he missed you most, he would sketch you.

"A picture is worth a thousand words, right?"

한 지 성 (Han)

Songs & lyrics

Started with writing songs that he listened to that day that made him think of you. Or a lyric that reminded him of you. And then, eventually, when he started writing songs about you, he would put in the lyrics he came up with. He could be minding his own business on the phone with you but the second inspiration hit, he'd put it in the planner with the exact date and time of when he came up with it. Sometimes, he'd give you little descriptions of why the thought that sound reminded him of you or what he was thinking about when he writing.

"See, I told you that you're my muse."

이 용 복 (Felix)

All the times he thought of you

Fair warning, it's a lot. You were confused at first when you got the planner. Besides all of the regular dates and when he gave you the planner. What confused you even more was all the little hearts written next to every date. You asked him and he explained that these were all the times he thought about you. spoiler alert, all 365 (366 if it's a leap year) has a little heart by it. Doesn't really give much of an explanation of it. There seemed to be a color code that you have no idea how to decipher. Every time you ask Felix, he just says he didn't have any other color available. Seungmin blurted it out by accident and now you know all of the meanings.

"You're just constantly running through my mind and I wanted you to know that."

김 승 민 (Seungmin)

Important dates from your relationship so far

Similar to Changbin, he adds in a bunch of dates for random little things, with one difference. In the weekly sections of the planner, he wrote down little stories or thoughts he had on those days. Sometimes, he's put quotes of what he wrote about that day in his journal. Any little memento that he kept like ticket stubs, receipts, and pictures that he took went into the diary as well. It was more like you were reading Seungmin's journal than a planner. Much more sentimental than you thought he would be.

"See, I do pay attention to you."

양 정 인 (I.N)

Small moments he wanted to share with you

He wasn't sure what to write at first. Filled in all the basic information and was pretty much done. Almost asked the other guys for advice but he knew that they'd only end up teasing him. And then one day, something funny happened but he couldn't tell you at that moment. It was later and he didn't want to wake you up by calling or texting you. He wrote it in his notes app at first, knowing he'd see it later and remember to tell you about it. And then one day he came up with the idea to just put them in the planner. Wrote them in the weekly section of the planner. Would write things like, Changbin hyung fell off a swing today, saw a duck and it reminded me of you (with the best drawing he can do of said duck), this city is so pretty, i'm going to bring you here one day, or i missed so i got your favorite ice cream while i was out with the guys.

"Stop reading them out loud!"

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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willicewc · 1 year

Text

Just a quick drawing of my Lionblaze is Scourge's reincarnation au :) I am still sick so the drawing is a bit wonky here and there.....

This au is still a vague concept and everyone is free to interpret it or create their own story line with it ! It's mainly made to make Lionblaze more revelant as a character, I liked the idea of him having the power to be "impossible to defeat in battle", and at the same time, be the reincarnation of the one of most deadly cats in the series !

So what if Scourge's new chance at life - being Lionblaze - turned out to be not that much of a good idea ?

Starclan "rant" ahead !

Starclan is often a bit weird when they give out powers and prophecies, such as lying to Squirrelflight about being infertile so that she would adopt the Three. ...Or forcing Jayfeather to become a medicine cat against his will, going literally against their decision to reincarnate Cinderpelt so that she would become a warrior because she was made a medicine cat against her will ??? If we follow Starclan's logic, then Jayfeather would have to then be reincarnated to become a warrior because his dream to become a warrior was cut short by Starclan ITSELF ???

Anyway, Starclan being so strange about its decisions, it would be right up its alley to make Scourge's reincarnation have a power to give him a full chance at bettering himself, just like how Brambleclaw was given the chance to kill off Firestar to become leader, and chose to kill Hawkfrost instead.

Knowing that Lionblaze's main inner conflict is the fear of losing control and killing people against his will, being Scourge's reincarnation would make that way more difficult. What if Scourge had genuinely always been a horrible person ? What if Scourge was meant to be terrible in every single timeline, Tigerpaw or not ? Would Lionblaze be able to fight off this strange, tingling need for blood ? Starclan really be testing my boi Lionblaze in this au.

But anyway I hope you enjoy that small sketch! It's not much, but it's honest work lol ! :)

Oh, also, sorry for the Starclan rant again, I feel like I keep ranting about Starclan but Starclan is such a strange mecanic in Warriors ??? Like they go against their very own concepts at some points (the cinderpelt/jayfeather point...), not even counting the fact that they would let Ashfur in Starclan when he threatened to KILL three cats just because Squirrelflight friendzoned him years before wtf??? Or sending Frecklewish to the Dark Forest??? I might make a full written post to talk about Starclan because Starclan is a really weird plot device and they can't seem to keep track of what they are doing. Such as : Let's forbid the medicine cats from having kits. But let's give the children of Crowfeather and Leafpool some powers. Why would Starclan give powers to children that are born against their own values ???

Idk man Starclan is really weird sometimes and I wish they were more... Logical ? Maybe these are just neatpick ? If you have anything to add, if you agree or not, feel free to tell me ! :)

(Also should I write Starclan as a "it" or as a "they" ? I am a bit confused so I used both on this text !)

#wc au #wc art #lionblaze is scourge au #lionblaze wc #lionblaze #scourge #scourge wc

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annikin-annotates · 5 months

Text

Family Ties Part 2

Hi hello my loves! I'm back with another installment of Family Ties, I hope you enjoy it! But before you continue I would like to take a second to thank everyone who has commented and reblogged, it really brightens my day!

TW: Suicidal ideations, Tav languishing like a Victorian era widow, Astarion being an asshole (again), Ascendant Astarion.

Word Count: 2.7K

The silver moonlight streamed into her chambers as she sat perched at her paper covered desk, hands covered in charcoal stains. She had been sketching long enough for the candles around her to burn down twice over, one of her husband's ever dutiful spawn were always quick to come and replace them.

She pulled herself from the trance she had entered to look over the sketches she had produced. She had excelled with art when she was human, and now that she was immortal, she never had to worry about dying before her next muse would come to her. Her muse had been the same for over twenty years now, Juniper.

Each sketch was different in some way, some had Astarions curls and angular face while some had the softness of her cheeks and her smile - what she could remember of it, anyway. The thought tugged painfully at her heart, she couldn’t even remember her own face, much like her lover all those years ago. Though one defining feature remained the same, a patch of silvery white hair nestled in her dark curls.

Would she even recognise her daughter?

Sometimes in the quiet of the night she would find herself with too many thoughts and not enough to keep her occupied. She didn’t want to think, she didn’t want to feel anymore, she had far too much time to do those things - she just wanted peace. But when she drew her sunlight, it all seemed to melt away, for a time there was no anger or anguish, just calmness.

Peace only came in the form of her daughter, as there was not a day that went by where she did not think about Juniper. About the type of person she grew into, was she all the best parts of them? Was she cunning and kind, did she have her determination and Astarion’s sharp wit?

Or did she grow into her namesake, would she wreak death, destruction and chaos just like her father. Even if she did become the embodiment of death and shadows, who would dare blame her? What chance did she have when she was an unholy amalgamation of a Vampire Demi-God and a Hellspawn? It would only solidify her name in the history books, the daughter of a tyrant and a spineless hero.

Missing her made her wonder if Juniper missed her too, if she ever yearned for a mother that she never knew. Or if she wondered if her mother didn’t love her, why her mothers hands never picked her up when she fell, kissing her wounds better, or why she was never carried to bed. She hoped that Juniper didn’t think she just passed her onto the first person who would care for her - the thought made her heart ache, she did this because she loved her. She loved her more than she could put into words, she loved her daughter like she loved the ghosts of her past.

Like she loved him.

There was some part of her, buried deep down that regrets giving her to Wyll; if she hadn’t perhaps she wouldn’t feel so lonely. She forced the thought down. Juniper was an innocent who didn’t deserve to suffer at the hands of a cruel father and a mother who could not offer her the love and protection that she needed.

Wherever her sunlight ended up was a much better life than the one she would have had with her, and she deserved that much. She hoped that Juniper grew up knowing only joy and laughter, that her life was a never ending stream of sweetness. She liked to imagine that Wyll had taken her to a grove, far away from civilisation - away from the vampire ascendant's influence.

A place overflowing with greenery and wild flowers, where the sun always shone and birdsong roused her from her sleep each morning. Where she never had to worry about the dangers that lingered in the shadows, nor the pull of power and all that it promised. Juniper would not repeat the sins of her father.

She remembered the terror she had felt when Astarion had pieced together the reason for Juniper’s disappearance. It hadn’t taken him long, a week at most, but she will always remember the cold sweat that broke out over her body when he opened the doors to their shared chambers, accusations spilling from his lips like poison.

“You’re the reason for Maitenirr’s disappearance,” it was a declaration, it wouldn’t matter what she said to him, regardless of it being true or not, he had made his decision - she was guilty.

There were two options before her, she could lie and try to placate him with whispered praises and sweet nothings. Or she could tell the truth and suffer the consequences of her actions, it did not matter what happened to her - her child was safe. That’s what mattered.

Her silence had only proven her guilt in Astarion’s eyes, and he closed the door behind himself, locking it. Her teeth ground against one another, her body screaming for her to run; every fibre was alight with fear, and yet she remained rooted to where she sat on the chaise. “Astarion please, I loved her. How could you think that of me?” she asked, tears beginning to brim her crimson eyes; she didn’t know if they were from fear or sadness.

“Do you take me for a fool?” he asked, brows raised in query - a challenge.

He strode towards her, stopping a few feet from her his arms behind his back, as if he was holding himself back. "I ask again, Tav; who did you give our daughter to?" He asked, voice cold and sharp like a blade, a familiar tingle prickled the back of her neck - he was charming her, compelling her to tell him what happened.

She tried to fight it, to struggle against the heavy chains that wrapped around her mind; it made her shy away from him and bile rise in her throat, she couldn't fight it. She dropped from the chaise to her knees as the feeling lapped at the edges of her mind as he tried to force the truth from her. Gods why couldn't she fight it? Why wasn't she stronger? It came tumbling out of her all at once "Wyll!! I gave her to Wyll!" She cried, chest heaving as he rescinded the charm.

"There we go, that's a good girl, let it all out,” he cooed. She looked up at him, eyes blurry from the tears, she could feel him smirking down at her, bastard. Astarion crouched before her, snatching her face with his hand, the softness of her cheeks dimpling in his hold. “I will teach you what it means to obey, I will not forget this,” he spat.

“You are lucky I love you. I have sent spawn into the sunlight for less,” he hissed, letting go of her face. Astarion was right, he had been crueller for far less - she was thankful for his mercy, but this was not love; not anymore. This was something far darker, an inkblot spreading across paper, tainting everything it touched, possession.

Astarion stood once more, brushing himself off - as if touching her had made him dirty in some way; her stale blood simmered in her veins. “No matter, I can always sire another,” he said flippantly, though she could tell that the conversation was far from over, his tone betrayed by the darkness that his eyes held.

Rage floods her, how could he say that? How could he carelessly disregard the child that he helped bring into the world - that he made her bring into the world. The anger that had been quietly simmering under her skin for two decades ignited, a small spark that had become something biblical. She could kill him; she was going to kill him, if it was the last thing she did.

She couldn’t stop herself. “You wouldn’t dare,” she spat, standing abruptly from the plush carpet of their shared chambers. Her eyes were alight with all the fury of a woman scorned, of a spurned lover - a threatened animal backed into a corner; of a mother.

“You do not get a choice in the matter,” he said matter-of-factly as he examined his finger nails, as if the fight was already won, as if there was never really a fight to be fought to begin with. And she supposed there wasn’t; arguing with him would only prolong the inevitable and prolonging the inevitable only ever turned out terribly.

But she argued anyway, for the sake of her and her daughter’s dignity. Or perhaps he would get frustrated enough to kill her himself - gods know how many times she’s thought about walking into the sunlight just to escape him, to escape this. “How dare you speak about our daughter like that!” she hissed, her whole body was coiled like a viper ready to strike. “She was all that was good in the world, and you disregard her like she is nothing!” she continued, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

Rage flashed in his eyes as a viscous smile tugged at his lips “It would do you well to remember what happens to people who overstep their station. You may be Consort, but you still answer to me,” he replied, his voice chilling her to the bone. “She is nothing, merely a complication to the larger plan, I have eternity to create another,” he was threatening her now, to see how eager she was to bite the hand that feeds.

She was more eager than most.

“Are we resorting to threats now, Astarion?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest as she stood, her velvet dress sleeves catching slightly as she did so. She could feel herself trembling but she was steadfast in her stance; she would not bow to him, not this time, not when he speaks of her daughter.

He chuckled darkly, closing the space between them, his thumb and forefinger tilting her chin; he was inches from her face, “It was a promise.” A chill danced down her spine as he pulled away, smoothing out his doublet before continuing as if nothing ever happened. “We will discuss this later, I have a dinner to plan. You are not to leave this room until I call for you.”

She grimaced at the unspoken connotation of the statement, both an order and an omen.

—

Fear. Fear and loathing.

It wasn’t enough for Astarion to take the stab, but he had to twist the proverbial knife and then salt the wound when he was done. By bringing Wyll into The Crimson Palace, he has not only spat in her face, but opened Wyll up to immense danger, which he no doubt knew and was most likely the purpose of doing so. And while she did not doubt the Blade of Frontiers, he wasn’t a Warlock anymore; he was an ageing mortal man.

A mortal man in a den of vipers.

Once again, she had nobody to blame but herself. She scoffed, just more innocent blood on her hands she supposed - gods she was tired of this. Tired of the fighting, the clawing and biting and clinging, clinging to the shell of a man who sat at the head of the table, clinging to the idea that there was still good in him. That there was still a man capable of kindness. She closed her eyes - Astarion wasn’t capable of anything but brutality, just like his predecessor. And all it took was a spark to light the flame.

Her heart began to thrum in her chest, starting a new painful rhythm as it slammed in her rib cage, bruising her lungs. The evening had begun rather calmly, it almost felt like a dinner party between friends, but it had been so much more than that. No matter how well Wyll had hid his weariness beneath that charming diplomatic mask of his, she could smell the fear, and there was no doubt that Astarion could too.

They were completely and utterly fucked, to say the least. All she could try to do was keep the peace, and if he was to strike someone - she hoped it was her. After years being subject to his ever changing moods, she knew that she could take it; she hoped for one night that Wyll would set down his chivalry and just survive this dinner. But Astarion wasn’t going to make this easy for either of them; he would push boundaries and prod sore spots, like he always has.

She wasn’t entirely sure how it escalated to this, Astarion had slammed his fist on the sturdy mahogany table, rattling the silverware and crockery as she mindlessly pushed the food in front of her around the plate. She had jumped at the sudden noise, her brain and body reconnecting once more. “If I wanted a child at the dinner table, I would have requested our daughter,” he hissed, that vicious glint in his eyes catching the candle light.

She gritted her teeth, knowing better than to rise to his provocation, “My apologies, my love. I was leagues away,” she replied, clearing her throat and reaching for the glass of wine before her. Her eyes caught Wyll’s gaze; he had, for the most part, aged quite gracefully. His braided hair was speckled with grey, he had crows feet and laughter lines, it made her happy that at least one of her companions had gone off to lead a happy life.

That was all it took for the spark to catch, like a match to turpentine, viciously clawing at anything in its way. His eyes flicking between the both of them, “Clear the room,” he ordered, watching as the spawn who were lingering in the shadows filtered out of the room. She shifted, readying to leave her seat as Astarions gaze snapped to her. “Not you,” his charm forcing her back into her seat.

Fear licked at the base of her spine; she knew what was coming, deep down she knew all along. This was either going to end in spilled blood or with her giving into his whims once again, she would not have Wyll’s blood stain her hands nor conscience. He stood from his seat at the head of the table; she cringed as it scraped across the marble floor, the sound reverberating off the walls. Astarion always knew how to hold people’s attention.

He raised his glass to the both of them, a smirk toying at the edges of his lips, as if there was a joke that the two of them weren’t privy to. Perhaps that was the joke, maybe he would kill them both, drain their blood and leave them to rot in the dungeons with the rest of the corpses; simple and painless, all she would have to do is let go. Then, as he began to speak, it dawned on her that her death was going to be anything but simple, or painless. No, he intended to take her from this world, kicking and screaming.

“Tonight I have chosen to surround myself with the finest company in all of Baldur’s Gate,” he began, tipping his glass to both of them. Her fingers gripped the arms of her chair, knuckles turning white as she looked towards Wyll, who was sitting ramrod straight in his seat. “I would like to congratulate my Darling Dark Consort for being a truly duplicitous woman. You put even me to shame,” he grinned, wanting to take his time indulging in his theatrics.

“And to you, my dear travelling companion, for playing your part in her plan so faithfully. Let us drink to your best laid schemes,” he finished, raising his glass. Astarion’s eyes narrowed as neither of them moved. “I said; drink,” he repeated, as both their bodies began moving of their own accord. The wine burned her throat as she took one gulp, and then another before draining her glass entirely, she watched Wyll do the same, grimacing as he set the glass down on the table.

The silence between the three of them was deafening, punctuated only by the gaudy grandfather clock ticking in the parlour across the hall. What exactly did Astarion want from them? He already had her admission of guilt and proof of Wyll’s assistance. She closed her eyes and sighed softly, stomach twisting at the realisation; he planned to interrogate Wyll, to glean information on the whereabouts of her daughter.

Halsin, Juniper was with Halsin.

----

Thank you for reading! Please take a moment to comment or reblog my work, it brightens my day and makes sure other people see it!

Beta read by the lovely: @arcielee and @amiraisgoingthruit

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lilyrizzy · 6 months

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trick or treat!! please something angsty as possible

okay this is super angsty! Cw: major character death

"I used to believe that grief was a lot of sitting around and crying,” Max says, looking straight ahead rather than at Grace as he speaks, at, Daniel Joseph Ricciardo, engraved in gold lettering. “On the TV, and a few times when I saw my mum crying about my Grandpa, of course, it was always- It seemed soft, sort off.”

His thumb slots perfectly into the groove of the ‘D’, as he traces the straight line of it, then the curve. Besides him, Grace doesn't say anything, so he continues.

“I know now, of course, that it is not like that at all. Instead, it is like every day I am one step closer to exploding, until I am just a mess. Just- Chunks of Max.”

That gets Grace laughing, abrupt, like he’s startled her. Max laughs too. He supposes it is a funny image, being made into cat food by your own emotions, your inability to deal with them gracefully.

“Did my son teach not teach you anything about grief?” she says, her voice somehow bright and heavy at the same time. For a moment, Max thinks she means- But then- “All those elbows and fists shoved through doors and walls.”

She is talking about racing.

Max shakes his head.

“Losing races, that is not grief,” he says, stubbornly, because he might have thought that at eighteen but he knows better now. His fingertip has reached the first ‘e’ now. He’s taking his time.

“Grief is all about losing,” Grace tries, but Max can’t listen to her compare them, like they are the same. Like Max hasn’t had all his bargaining and begging fall on deaf ears. One more day. Every race win for one more day. One thousand losses for one more day.

“Losing a race is a disappointment,” he insists. Underneath his touch, the headstone is smooth the way Daniel's thighs would be right after he would wax, but cold the way he never was. Max drops his hand. “It is knowing that you did not try hard enough, that- That you have next weekend, next season to try again. To be better.”

There are no more ‘nexts’ for Max. Not ones that matter, not when the future he dreamed up, that used to feel so easy to reach for, is beneath his feet, buried where he stands.

“You can-“ Grace begins eventually, breaking the quiet- “Sweetheart, it’s been a year.”

Grace is silent for a moment, and Max can hear the birds, the noises they make as they fly and land and talk to each other. He touches Daniel- the headstone- again, to steady himself as he tilts his head back to look into the treeline. He can’t be sure, but he thinks the noisy one is a type that Daniel had showed him, the only time they were here together in Perth and he was still alive. A honeyeater.

Her hand reaches for his then and it startles him a little, her soft motherly hands touching him. Skin papery thin, one year older than the last time she touched him, the same way, in this very same spot. It’d surprised him just as much then; she’d never been Max’s biggest fan.

When he trusts himself to look at her face, she’s smiling as though she thinks he needs to hear this.

“Daniel would want you to be happy.”

Max screws his eyes shut, shakes his head so viciously as though to shake away the words he wants to say, to throw into her face, like a drawing on Luka’s etch-e-sketch.

What would you know about that? You did not see the way he loved me, the way we fought, the way we fucked. What would you know about what Daniel would want for me.

“I can’t,” he gets out, because it’s half the truth anyway. Even though the words choke him. “I can’t.”

When he opens his eyes again, he expects to be met with more insistence, more of her steadfast belief that as always, mother knows best.

“You know, when you told me you wanted to keep him-“ her other hand trails over the edge of the gravestone, gently, as though touching somebody she doesn’t want to wake up from sleeping- “I was so angry at you Max.”

Instead, she nods, but doesn't let go of his hand. Then-

Her eyes look sideways towards him, as though daring him a little to question her, to protest, but he stays silent. She laughs, nervously before continuing.

“You don’t- for this you do not need to be sorry,” Max tells her honestly, because it’s almost crueller now, to have her apology said too late, to the wrong person. Daniel died thinking his mother was scared of the sight of him, and now she is apologising for wanting to see him too much.

“I thought that you had him for all these years, the least you could do was let him come home to us. That was- I was cruel. It was wrong. I robbed you of a place, somewhere to go to be with him. I’m sorry.”

Max almost wants to laugh.

Besides, it didn't matter. Max never needed a grave. He’d asked because it had been what Daniel wanted, the only thing he’d asked for in the last days he was verbal. Delirious, but verbal.

Max didn’t need ashes or bones. Not when he’d had Daniel’s hair in their shower drain. His Vans lining their hallway, his oat milk in the fridge, curdled, until Victoria had visited and made him throw it out. When he still has him now, the echo of his laughter every time Max watches a funny film, sat on the sofa they picked out together. His footsteps beside Max on every cobbled street he walks down.

I want to be in the Monaco sunshine, Maxy. With you.

His voice, even if only from videos he rewatches or inside Max’s head.

“I didn’t need somewhere to go,” he tells her, squeezing her hand. “At home, he is everywhere. He is with me all the time.”

#what is more angsty than major character death!!!#i tried to clean this up but also... sleepy.....#max/daniel #fic #cw major character death #thanks anon!

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sneakertin · 6 months

Text

if anyone is still interested in the bounty hunter tentoo au, here's my huge little ramble about it!! it's a bit wild. sorry not sorry.

also, there's some more details in this post, in case anyone missed it.

and here's a couple of sketches, of course^^

ok so. when tentoo finally finds thirteen and yaz it's almost like an episode-style kinda story with him as the villain of the week, simply because i think in this format. after he has his hysterical little explanation of everything that's happened the doctor is visibly traumatized and yaz is profoundly concerned. predictably, he tries to kill the doctor(but not yaz). they manage to get away, and now she has to tell yaz about who tentoo is. she basically sits her down like a grandpa and tells her the entire long ass story. reasonably, yaz has very conflicting emotions about him. yes, his story is heartbreaking and all, but he does want to murder the woman she loves?? anyway. tentoo soon finds them again. he's a very tough enemy, maybe one of the toughest the doctor has ever met. he spent years preparing for their confrontation, he has her memories and her mind, her thought process. not only that, he knows all her weak spots and all her insecurities(he's a bit like the master in that respect). at first it seems like he's always a step ahead of them, but that soon changes. after all, he is extremely mentally unstable. he has been running on spite for the last ~15 years, and the doctor is much older than when they last met. he may have her memories, but she had plenty of time to gain new ones, to become wiser. this goes on for a while, tom and jerry kinda shit, but tentoo looses in the end.

also, there's this little scene where he stumbles upon the tardis while chasing the doctor and yaz. he sees her, stops dead in his tracks. he hasn't even realised how much he missed her. he approaches slowly and feels a faint presence in his mind. his telepathy is very weak, his time sense practically gone. he leans his forehead against the door and tardis welcomes him. he almost cries. that's the first friendly telepathic contact he's had in years. he feels at peace as he reaches for the door handle and.. it doesn't open. he tries again. she doesn't want him there, he realises. anger rises in him. he kicks the door.

"Oh, I see how it is. You want to protect her. You know that I'm going to hurt the Doctor. I mean, of course you do. I don't know what I was expecting."

he gives her one final, longing look before leaving.

initially, he dies during their battle. killed by his own weapon or something like that. it's all very dramatic and tragic, he forgives the doctor right before dying and asks her to live the life he couldn't. she gives him a gallifreyan funeral. she and yaz hold hands as they watch his body burn. the doctor has a strong sense of deja vu.

BUT then i thought that i don't want this story to end so soon because i need something to think about during the day, and i'm not ready to let go of this au yet. so, i made tentoo travel with thirteen and yaz!! this doesn't make much sense but it's fun so i don't care. the doctor feels insane amounts of guilt over tentoo and she desperately wants to make it better(it's a rather selfish decision, very typical of the doctor). and tentoo probably just realises that the doctor is not nearly as evil as he thought all those years. meeting her in the flesh reminded him of when he was her, of the fact that he never did anything out of any malice and yet people still blamed him for the things that weren't his fault. he's completely burned out, all the fight leaves him. on a subconscious level he just wants some company, wants to travel properly again. and after all the shit he went through, the doctor is probably the only person who can understand him. so, to his own surprise, he agrees. yaz is not too excited about bringing a serial killer aboard, but she sees the potential in him.

their battle was messy. his spaceship is destroyed, and it feels like the end of an era. they walk back to the tardis in silence, there's rubble all around them.

he realises, as he stands in front of the blue box, that he's trading one stolen spaceship for another. that brings a laugh out if him and yaz gives him a weird look. by that point, the doctor is nearly vibranting with excitement.

"Ready to see what she looks like?"

right, the tardis must have redecorated. he nods. the door makes a familiar creak as he takes a step forward. his jaw drops.

"Oh, you gorgeous!!"

he rushes ahead and moves around the console, touching the corals and admiring their colours. yaz is a bit shocked at his surge of enthusiasm. he seems so... doctor-like, she thinks. yes, his smile is manic and his eyes are filled with pain. his face is marked with a scar and there's nothing but an empty space where his right hand used to be. but in that moment, he is human.

slowing down, he runs his fingers along some buttons with a solemn expression. he lifts his gaze up at the moving column.

"I'm sorry for kicking you. You were doing the right thing and I... I was just upset that you didn't let me in. You understand, don't you?"

the tardis makes a low, gentle noise. he smiles.

"I missed you too, old girl."

he startles a bit when the doctor approaches from behind.

"I take it you like her new look." she laughed, awkward. "Erm, listen, I wanted to ask... About your name. Or, the lack of one. We couldn't very well keep calling you the instantaneous two-way biological metacrisis, could we? Now that you're not trying to kill me anymore, you could be the Doctor ag-"

"No!" he blurted, suddenly. "I mean, I... I don't wanna be you. I'm not you." she stared at him, open mouthed. "I think I wanna be my own person now. Fresh start, you know? Not the Doctor, not the Verisian Slayer or whatever it was that they called me." he looked lost, scared by the thought of his own future, but determined.

"That's the spirit!" she grinned and slapped him on his back. he grimaced. "Sorry. Anyway, we still need to come up with a name for you! How about good old John Sm-"

"Absolutely not!"

"Alright. John Handy?"

"Be careful, I might change my mind about not trying to kill you. By the way, you owe me a new hand." he angrily flapped his empty sleeve at yaz. she raised her hands in defence, laughing. she felt a bit guilty now, for nicking and breaking it earlier that day. oh, what a mad day that was.

"I'll make you a one! Back on the topic, how about James? You know, like Jamie Mccrimmon."

his shoulders sagged and she saw his eyes fill with memories of an old friend.

"Yeah, I think I like that."

...

AHEM!! got a bit carried away there. this thing nearly turned into a fic, but i'm not a writer so it's probably very messy. i don't wanna pull the "english is my second language" card so i'll just apologise for the ungodly amount of grammatical nonsense. sorry.

ANYWAY, they start traveling together and it's literally the most dysfunctional friendship ever. you may be thinking: "how is this gonna work? are they just gonna forget about the fact that james spent the last ten years killing people left and right?" well, he can't be any worse than the master, right? but he is a very troubled character and he spends a lot of time trying to recover from everything that's happened. the doctor and yaz are there for him all the while.

as for their relationship... basically, the doctor is very protective of james. as i said earlier, she feels directly responsible for what happened, even tho he doesn't really blame her anymore.

also, damn. that name change is very sudden, isn't it? i still can't tell if it's cringe or not. but i don't want him to go back to being the doctor, so it's not like there's any other options. the way it works is that he doesn't actually reject his past. has the memories of being the doctor and even tho he didn't actually live through them, to him it feels like he did. he was the doctor up to a certain point and then he became an entirely new person, albeit with a mutual past with her. he finally embraces his humanity. during their travels he is surprised at how refreshing it is to be in the role of the companion, to not be the doctor anymore. he no longer feels the weight of all the responsibilities and expectations that come with that bearing that name. people no longer blame him for every little thing gone wrong, for the most part. he's relieved to feel that kind of freedom, but at the same time he feels sorry for the doctor who is still being treated like that, and probably always will be. tho he is faced with his own bad reputation occasionaly. someone recognised the doctor and james once and called them "the doctor and their personal assasin".

relationships, yes. james has no problems getting along with the doctor, for obvious reasons, but he and yaz take some time to get used to each other. in the end, they bond in a way that i can't really explain. he sees right through yaz, and it kinda freaks her out. he immediately recognises the exact kind of relationship she has with the doctor and oh boy, he turned himself into a fucking matchmaker. you'd think he'd be horrified at the prospect of the doctor falling in love with a human again, considering the massive trauma he has regarding this topic, but no. i guess that as a human he takes it much easier this time around. he is mortal, and so is yaz, and that kinda makes her seem less fragile to him.

OH!! i forgot to mention the little running gag i came up with. so, every now and again james gets his prosthetic broken, or stolen, or eaten or absolutely obliterated in the most unpredictable comedic way possible and he gets soooo mad every time. at one point they meet the pting again... you can guess what happens.

oh, i was also thinking about bringing jack into this whole mess because i'm obsessed with tenjack, but i'm still not sure about that. i was just wondering how different their relationship would be if the doctor was human. we already know that jack loves the doctor and will probably never stop. but james doesn't have much of his time lord senses left now and therefore he wouldn't be able to feel jack's "wrongness". moreover, he spent years with barely any human connection and now he's desperate for it. most importantly, the majority of the doctor's relationship hang ups are based on their immortality, and guess what!! james doesn't have that anymore. he's not the doctor, he's changed, but he still has the memories. jack is still his friend. with nothing holding james back, i truly think he would be able to return jack's feelings. or maybe I'm thinking to much about it. maybe i just everyone to be gay, who knows?? i honestly don't know just how weird it would be if they were together but, my god, i just want them both to have some comfort, something that goes farther than friendship.

anyway, jack joins the dysfunctional trio post revolution of the daleks(for him) so he already knows thirteen and yaz. you can imagine his shock when he sees james. james is no less surprised. a wave of insecurity hits him and he immediately tries to explain to jack that he's not who he thinks he is. that's he's not really the doctor, that's he's that weird little guy who grew out of The Hand. jack hears his words, but goes for a hug anyway. james sighs in relief. at least he doesn't have to deal with rejection again. he's also startled to realise that jack doesn't feel wrong anymore. it's supposed to be a bad thing: his mind can no longer sense the timelines. but instead of panicking about it, he just chooses to relax in his friend's embrace. the doctor looks at them, and smiles.

...

aaaand that's all i have for now!! when i tell you i nearly died trying to convert all my loose thoughts into a semi-comprehensible text. you a real soldier if u read all that. hope you enjoyed<3

#aughuahh #sorry this took so long #the last few weeks were really busy #anyway this one's for you #bounty hunter tentoo au #doctor who #tentoo #tenjack #dw #dw fanart #tenth doctor

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